


Rectilinear

by SatanDaddy



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, Deaths, How Do I Tag, Hurt Thomas (Maze Runner), M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Character Undeath, Memory Loss, POV Alternating, POV Newt (Maze Runner), POV Thomas (Maze Runner), Poor Thomas (Maze Runner), Presumed Dead, Punishment, Sad Minho, Sad Newt (Maze Runner), Safe Haven, Safe Haven (Maze Runner), Temporary Amnesia, Thomas (Maze Runner) Whump, Torture, assassinations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatanDaddy/pseuds/SatanDaddy
Summary: He was the perfect assassin. No name, no past, no memories.ORWhen Thomas "dies," Minho, Newt and the Gladers run to the Safe Haven. What happens when a familiar boy appears a year later, no memories of them or himself. What happens when he is sent to kill them?[DISCONTINUED]
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	1. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas dies. Or so everyone thinks.  
> He survives, and WCKD capture him.  
> He's never rescued, as no one knows he's alive.  
> WCKD takes Thomas' memories again, and he becomes #74, a mere number.  
> WCKD sends him to the Safe Haven with a mission.  
> Kill them all
> 
> The last trial for the Candidates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Thomas wakes as #74 what he remembered is fake. All that stuff about missions and assassins isn't real 😂

He didn't know where he was. 

He was on a table, he couldn't move.

Everything hurt.

He heard beeping, the whirring of machines. He only saw the plain white ceiling.

He didn't know what was happening.

He didn't know what he was doing here, what was going on.

 _He_ _didn't_ _know_ _who_ _he_ _was_ _._

A soft click sounded to the left but he couldn't move his head. He heard the beeping quicken before a face appeared in his view. It was a woman.

Her face was obscured by a mask.

"It's okay. You're safe."

He didn't feel safe. Why couldn't he move? Why did everything hurt?

The woman disappeared from his view for a moment, before reappearing. His vision suddenly blurred.

The last thing he saw was the woman's eyes staring blankly into his.

The last thing he heard was uttered in his ear before it all went black.

" _Wicked_ _is_ _good_ _._ "

When he woke again, everything clicked.

He was number 74. He worked for Ava Paige, WCKD. He _was_ WCKD. He was an assassin. Had been as long as he could remember.

The only thing he didn't understand was how he got here.

He sat up, looking around.

The room was empty, bare of furniture and people.

#74 furrowed his brows. The last thing he could remember was being on a mission. He'd been sent to kill...Someone. He couldn't remember. #74 squinted, as if it would fill in the blanks in his memories.

A face surfaced, but it was blurred. Blonde hair, brown eyes. _Newt_ _._  
#74 blanched. Newt? What was Newt? _Who_ was Newt?

The door opened behind him.

It was Ava.

"#74, how are you?" She greeted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is real cringy. And short. But you're used to that right?


	2. Origin

_The world rushed by in a blur. Thomas knew the pain was coming._

_Everything suddenly stopped as the impact sent a violent jolt through his body._

_Then he was swallowed by the impenetrable darkness and it was suddenly the only thing he knew._

_"THOMAS!" Minho screamed as he helplessly watched his friend, his brother fall from the platform._

_Newt was silent beside him, eyes wide as saucers._

_Thomas hit the ground.  
_

_He didn't move after that._

_They were forced to leave his body._

_They were forced to leave their friend._

_They were forced to leave their brother._

_He woke to white. A bright, white light. Blinding.  
_

_He woke on a table. A cold, steel table.  
_

_He woke in a room. A small, unfamiliar room._

_Before his eyes fell shut again, he realised one thing._

_He couldn't remember anything._

***

_He was the perfect assassin.  
_

_No name, no past, no memories._

_The perfect candidate._

_***_

The world moved by in a blur and Minho and Newt were forced to live without Thomas.

It was like the world stopped turning to mourn the death of the most loyal, most humane person. It hurt Newt's heart to think about it. About _him_.

After they'd left him, after they'd found the Safe Haven, they wrote his name on the rock.

But they felt as if it weren't enough for everything he'd done for them.

So they made him something else.

They gave him his own rock on the beautiful beach and they gave him Chuck's figurine and Newt's necklace.  
It still didn't feel right to leave it like that, and Newt wondered if it was because his body was buried in a mountain of metal and not in the soft sand where his name was written.

He tried not to think about it.

Over the next month, Newt and Minho kept to themselves. Brenda, Jorge, Gally and Frypan all tried to talk to them but they didn't want to be with anyone but each other.

The month was excruciatingly long, and so was the second one. Soon enough, the months turned into a year and Newt didn't understand how the days could be so long, yet the year so short.

As the year had passed, Newt and Minho began to accept Thomas' death. They were given their jobs and they finally began to fit into society again. They still liked to keep to themselves but they were better.

Newt knew Thomas would be happy. He'd be with Chuck, Teresa. And Winston, and Mary.

***

 _Metal_ _creaked_ _and_ _groaned_ _._ _He_ _couldn't_ _move_ _._ _He_ _was_ _pinned_ _down_ _by_ _a_ _heavy_ _weight_ _._ _Everything_ _hurt_ _,_ _his_ _head_ _throbbed_ _,_ _he_ _couldn't_ _see_ _._  
 _Everything_ _was_ _dark_ _,_ _everything_ _was_ _black_ _._  
 _He_ _could_ _barely_ _breathe_ _beneath_ _the_ _heaviness_ _weighing_ _down_ _on_ _him and his_ _lungs_ _heaved_ _for_ _more_ _air_ _._ _It_ _was_ _stuffy_ _,_ _his_ _skin_ _felt_ _stiff_ _with_ _dried_ _blood_ _._  
 _He_ _tried_ _to_ _move_ _,_ _tried_ _to_ _ignore_ _the_ _pain_ _that_ _flared_ _through_ _every inch of his_ _body_ _at_ _the_ _action_ _._ _He_ _tried_ _to_ _do_ something, _but_ _he_ _only_ _managed_ _to_ _work_ _himself_ _into_ _a_ _panic_ _._  
 _He_ _felt_ _lightheaded. The_ _more_ _he_ _tried_ _to_ _breathe_ _,_ _the_ _less_ _air_ _he_ _got_ _._ _He_ _was_ _stuck_ _,_ _the_ _metal_ _around_ _him_ _getting_ _tighter_ _and_ _tighter_ _and_ _tighter_ _and_ _he_ _was_ _alone_ _and_ _he_ _couldn't_ _breathe-_  
 _Metal_ _fell and shifted somewhere above_ _him_ _,_ _startling_ _him_ _._  
 _He_ _held_ _his_ _breath_ _,_ _hoping_ _not_ _to_ _disrupt_ _the_ _layers_ _of_ _concrete_ _and_ _scaffolding_ _above_ _him_ _._  
 _His_ _chest_ _burned_ _._  
 _He_ _gasped_ _for_ _more_ _air_ _,_ _scrunched_ _his_ _eyes_ _closed_ _._  
 _He_ _was_ _alone_ _._  
 _He_ _was_ _going_ _to_ _die_ _alone_ _._  
 _Metal_ _and_ _concrete_ _shifted_ _once_ _again_ _,_ _and_ _Thomas_ _felt_ _a_ _sob_ _erupt_ _from_ _his_ _chest_ _._  
 _He_ _was_ _going_ _to_ _die_ _._ _He_ _was_ _alone_ _._  
 _Suddenly_ _,_ _a_ _loud_ _crunching_ _sound_ _broke_ _him_ _from_ _his_ _panic_ _._ _He_ _tried_ _to_ _look_ _to_ _his_ _left_ _where_ _the_ _sound_ _had_ _come_ _but_ _he_ _couldn't_ _move_ _his_ _head_ _._  
 _Light_ _filtered_ _through_ _crevices_ _of_ _concrete_ _and_ _he_ _felt_ _hope_ _blossom_ _in_ _his_ _chest_ _._  
 _He_ _wasn't_ _alone_ _._ _Someone_ _found_ _him_ _._  
 _More_ _light_ _shone_ _through_ _and_ _he_ _felt_ _his_ _vision_ _fading_ _._  
 _Voices_ _sounded_ _but_ _he_ _couldn't_ _make_ _out_ _any_ _words_ _._ _Everything_ _jumbled_ _together_ _._  
 _The_ _weight_ _over_ _his_ _body_ _slowly_ _decreased_ _and_ _light_ _burned_ _his_ _eyes_ _._  
 _He_ _felt_ _himself_ _being_ _dragged_ _out_ _before_ _everything_ _disappeared_ _._

#74 shot up, eyes flicking frantically around the room.  
What kind of dream was that? It felt different, _real_ _._  
But how could that be real?  
The door across the room swung open, revealing Ava Paige.  
She strode towards his desk, dropping a folder on it.  
She turned to him, clasping her hands in front of her professionally.  
"You leave at 12. Be ready."  
And with that, she left, gone as quickly as she'd appeared.  
#74 slid off his bed, and made his way to his desk.  
The folder was a a creamy yellow colour, with red words stamped atop of it.

**#74**

**Mission** **Brief**

**7gecp746mkl**

#74 opened it, flicking through the pages. There were pictures, five boys, three girls.  
Each wore a plain white shirt and stared dully at the camera.  
The first was a girl, her hair in dreads. 'Subject, B7, The Trailmaker.'  
The second was another girl, blonde. 'Subject B5, The Glue.'  
The third was a boy, eyebrows rivaling no others. 'Subject A4, The Survivor.'

**_(I MADE THOSE THREE UP 😂 IDK WHAT THEY REALLY ARE)_ **

The next was an Asian, 'Subject A7, The Leader.'  
The last one was another blonde.

'Subject A5, The Glue.'

#74 stared at his face for a long while. There was something about it. Blonde hair, brown eyes...

Newt.

He didn't know why, but it infuriated him. _Newt_.

 _Newt_.

_Newt._

Who was Newt?

There was something, a maddening, enraging memory on the tip of his tongue but he didn't know. It was like a fever dream, blurred but there.

He didn't understand it. He just didn't understand. 

***

As soon as the clock struck 12, #74 was standing in front of a Flat Trans, equipped with his mask on, his bag over his shoulder and ready for action.

Ava saw him off, her parting words reminding him of how important it was that he succeeded his mission.

#74 hated to think of the consequences if he failed.

He walked through, his vision going black for moment, before it returned, the bright sun a great contrast to the artificial lighting he was so used to.

He covered his eyes with an arm, the other finding his hand gun in case someone attacked him in his vulnerable state.

But as he lowered his hand slightly, there was nothing but forest and ocean.

He dropped his hand completely, looking around.

In the distance, multiple buildings stood. A large ship swayed on the water but was tethered to land.

He could just make out silhouettes of people milling around, but they were to far away to see details or what they were doing.

He glanced at the buildings, picking the closest one to use as a vantage point.

He ran swiftly and smoothly along the tree line, being silent in case there was someone in the forest.

As soon as he for to the building, he took one last glance behind him before climbing through and broken window. #74 found the stairs immediately and quietly made his way to the top, no sound hears around him.

There was only one thought in his mind.

 _Complete_ _the_ _mission_ _._

If he didn't...

He made it to the last stair case, and climbed to the roof. No one was there.

He peeked over the side of the building, watching the crowd below.

There were more kids than adults, and they all seemed hard at work.

#74 scanned each face, looking for the subjects he'd been tasked to kill.

None of the teens, however, were to be seen. #74 was about to leave, find another building to climb, when he something caught his eye.

A flash of blonde.

At first, he thought it was New- Subject A5. But he soon realised it was the girl, Subject B5.

She was walking out of a neighboring building, talking over her shoulder.

#74 slipping his bag off, taking out the sniper without glancing away from his target.

Quickly loading it, he raised it to his eye, finding the girl. 

He aimed the ... at her head, lining it up. His finger found the trigger.

He was just applying pressure when another flash of blonde came into view, momentarily distracting him. The sniper was still shot, however, landing on the ground a few feet away from the subject.

The two blondes jumped, quickly finding him on the rooftop.

It was him. Subject A5. _Newt_ _._

A few people came running out, seemingly seen the bullet hit the ground.

An asian- A3- yelled at him. "Oi! What's wrong with you?"

#74 ducked down, running to the stairs.

He ran down as fast as his legs allowed him, but he wasn't fast enough.

Subject A3 was at the bottom, an older man behind him.

He froze, scanning the area for escape routes.

"Don't run, _hermano_ , or I'll shoot."

#74 ran.

A loud bang sounded, but #74 had already rolled out of the way, losing his mask on the ground.

He ran to the back, to window and jumped out. He was about to run into the forest when he saw him.

 _Newt_ _._

The boy stared at him, eyes wide in shock... Disbelief?

He didn't seem to be armed, so #74 ran, scolding himself.

He'd failed. He'd failed the mission.

***

"It was Thomas."

Minho stared at him for a moment, eyes hard, but they softened, and his shoulders slumped.

"He's dead, Newt. I wish he were alive too, but he's not. We saw him. Besides, why would he be shooting at us?"

"Maybe WCKD made him! Maybe they're controlling him again!"

"Yeah, right. Me and Tom got those out of our shuck heads. WCKD can't control us anymore."

"But-"

"No, Newt. He's gone."

*** Newt ***

The next few weeks passed, and despite being the one to see him, Newt was beginning to think it wasn't Thomas.

Minho was right. They watched Thomas fall- _die_ _,_ no less.

He was gone. And it wasn't healthy to grasp onto the feeble, fuzzy image of his face that day.

And yet, he couldn't help but hold on to hope.

*** Thomas ***

He woke up, and his memories were gone.  
  
But he knew he was #74.

He felt an eerie calm despite the strange situation, as if or were familiar.

A woman, stiff and professional- like entered the room, heels clicking. Her face was set in a firm glare.

Ava.

She sighed, wiping a hand over her tired eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I hope," she said, eyes closed, "that you do not fail me again. We were so close, and we don't have any more room for failure."

He knew he'd failed the mission. He'd never failed a mission before. He couldn't remember why he'd failed this time.

Ava passed him a folder. "You will try again, and this time, you will succeed."

He nodded. He would.

He couldn't bare the thought of failing again.

***

 **#74 shouldered his** weapons bag, stepping through the Flat Trans.

On the other side was both a beach, a large blue vessel bobbing on the water, and a thick forest. The sounds of waves turning and the distant sound of voices met his ears as he took in his surroundings. There was a group of tall buildings over the forest, where the voices were emerging from.

That was where he needed to go.

Sticking close to the trees, he swiftly made his way to the closest building. There was no sound from inside, and a quick glance through the window proved the floor empty.

#74 pushed the grimy window open, climbing in silently. He waited at the bottom of the staircase for sound, but there was none. He slowly ascended the staircase, peeking around the corner of the wall.

Again, the floor was empty.

He continued cautiously through the building until he had made it to the rooftop, where he had a clear vantage point of the people below.

He peeked over the side of the building, watching the crowd milling about. Some were gathered over a table outside, a pile of papers on it, and some were carrying planks of wood through the way. Others simply traveled through to the ocean side, where they worked on docks and huts.

#74 remembered the subjects he was required to kill, and an inkling of fear trickled into him at the thought of failing again. He scanned the crowds for the faces of the teenagers he'd seen in the mission folder, finding subject A7 at the table.

Without taking his eyes off the Asian, he reached down and pulled out his sniper, quickly loading it with ease.

He propped the gun on the ledge, taking aim on the target.

"I knew you'd be back."

#74 spun around, pointing the gun at the person behind him.

It was Subject A5.

He didn't drop his gun, instead stared at him for a long while. Neither said a word.

#74 knew he should shoot, and his finger hovered over the trigger, the boy's head right in the center of the target. But he didn't move a muscle.

There was something about him.

Something stopped him, something locked away deep inside of him, tugging his finger away from the trigger.

Newt.

He lowered his gun slightly.

 _Newt_.

The word felt so familiar, and it was the only word that came to mind when he looked into those eyes. Those brown eyes, that were so, _so_ familiar.

But he'd never seen him before. This person- subject, was his enemy.

Was his mission.

He couldn't fail his mission.

He raised his gun once again, but a click to his right stopped him in his tracks.

He turned his head slowly, where he saw another subject. A gun to his head.

Subject B5.

"Drop the gun, Tommy," A5 ordered.

He turned back to him, and saw him staring right at him. He didn't move. Who was Tommy? 

"Tommy," he said again, eyes pleading. "We don't want to hurt you."

"Who the hell's Tommy?" he croaked. _**  
**_

***

**HE** **DIDN'T** **LOWER** his gun, and neither did B5.

The boy stared at him, eyes wide in what looked like heartbreak.

" _You're_ Tommy," he whispered.

#74 scowled. This was wasting time.

"Drop it," B5 growled, cocking her gun.

He ignored her. She wouldn't shoot.

" _Tommy_ " the boy repeated, voice wavering. " _Please_. Drop. The gun."

He didn't drop the gun. He had other ideas, and a constant thought repeating over and over in his head.

_Don't_ _._ _Fail_ _._

"I'm not _Tommy_."

He let go of his gun with one hand, and spun, using the momentum to hit the other gun out of B5's hand in one quick, fluid motion. It hit the ground, and all hell broke loose.

The girl lunged for him, and he dodged. He dropped his own gun, knowing it was no use for a close fight like this.

He reached to his boot, where he kept his knife.

B5 regained her balance, baring her teeth. "Will you just listen to us?"

He leaped at her, throwing his blade down on her. She gasped, diving out of the way.

B5 looked to A5, who was staring helplessly. "Do something!" she cried, turning back to #74 just as he charged at her again.

She dodged again at the last second, and he caught himself just before running over the ledge. He spun around just in time to block a punch from B5.

The boy was nowhere to be seen, but he focused on the situation at hand. B5 threw her free fist at him, and he blocked it again. He pushed her backwards, stepping forward and away form the ledge.

As she tried to regain her balance, he brought his knife down again, and she barely had time to move out of the way.

Sweat poured down his face, and he growled in frustration.

He raised the blade again, but a hand gripped his elbow shoving him to the side.

He scrambled to his feet, looking up. There was A5 again, this time with another boy; A7. He stood, eyes wide as he saw his face _._

#74 snarled, gripping his knife tightly. It was three against one now, and he had a feeling this was a losing battle.

But he wouldn't go down with out a fight.

_Don't_ _._ _Fail_ _._

He lunged at A7, who was the closest to him, and tackled him to the ground. He swung his blade at him, and he barely had time to deflect it with his forearm.

B7 jumped in, kicking him off and grabbing his arm.

A7 took his other arm, and #74 kicked mercilessly, trying to free himself.

B5 took his blade, bringing the flat of it to the bag of his head.

The last thing he saw was A5's face, sullen and devastated.

_Newt_ _._

**

**Author's Note:**

> This sucks, its very jumbled XDD


End file.
